


you are mine, but am i yours?

by Skullszeyes



Series: Touch Of Salvation [2]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends, Boys Kissing, Breaking and Entering, Childhood Friends, Dubcon Kissing, Enemies, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemy Lovers, Flirting, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Questioning, Romantic Friendship, Rough Kissing, Sequel, Swearing, Talking, Teasing, confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 02:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18983218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullszeyes/pseuds/Skullszeyes
Summary: Saruhiko found Yata in his apartment, wondering how he got in, but there's more to Yata that confuses Saruhiko.





	you are mine, but am i yours?

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to continue from the last fic I wrote for these two! :D There's mentions of it, so if anyone wants to read that first before this, it'll be in the series! And yes, I'll be continuing this series with stuff that has to do with simply these two and their complicated relationship, they're more like enemies with benefits that only seemed to discover kissing, and maybe more in the future, who knows. LOL.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

Saruhiko hadn’t thought that Yata would appear in his apartment after weeks of not seeing each other. He had slept comfortably in the hospital bed, his fingers loose on the fabric of his shirt. It didn’t take as much effort to get it out of Yata’s hold, but it did take awhile for Saruhiko to leave the room itself.

It wasn’t until Yata’s friend’s arrived after he asked one of his subordinates to call for them to come see Yata. He knew his friend would want to know that they came to visit, even if it wasn’t in their initiative to do so. None had said anything when Saruhiko had left the room, he did feel their heavy gazes on his back as he pulled on his coat.

The sight itself must’ve annoyed them, but Saruhiko honestly didn’t care about any of their opinions upon him and Yata’s questionable and hostile relationship. He wouldn’t deny that he did feel good about Yata’s obviously clinging to his shirt, not wanting to let it go, and speaking his name in a drowsy voice.

Now, he didn’t expect Yata to be lying on his sofa, wearing a blue cap upon his red hair, with a game in his hand. He didn’t even bother to look at him while he took off his coat, and placed his saber to the side.

“What are you doing here?” Saruhiko asked, sauntering to the kitchen and opening the fridge. He pulled out a jug of grape juice and poured himself a cup. “Are you going to answer me or lie there and pretend I’m not here?”

Yata scoffed and continued playing his game.

“How did you get in?” Saruhiko asked, attempting a conversation with his rival. He sat down on the opposite couch across from the one Yata was lying on.

“How do you think I got in?” Yata asked, tossing something onto the coffee table between them.

Saruhiko looked down at it and noticed it was a card. He picked it up and arched a brow, a slow smile rising to his lips. “You broke in.”

“You aren’t really that proficient as you might think,” Yata says, grudgingly.

“This is theft,” Saruhiko said, pocketing the card that was a duplicate to his own ID card in his pocket, the only one that would allow him entry into the apartment. Yata must’ve stolen his ID card at some point, possibly when he was hugging his coat, and later gave his real one back. Saruhiko wasn’t sure how he did it, and Yata only showed these types of sides to him quite rarely.

“Doesn’t explain why you’re here, unless you’re gloating,” Saruhiko said.

Yata let out an aggravated sound before pushing himself up, and turning his body to look directly at Saruhiko. His glare hadn’t faded, and Saruhiko missed the vulnerability he had seen back on the street, clutching his coat, and mumbling for Saruhiko to stay with him.  

“I wanted to come see you, is that so hard to understand?” Yata asked, and for once, Saruhiko was surprised by the truth Yata uttered. He managed to glance away, gritting his teeth, but he didn’t deny what he had said, he didn’t drag it away and spoke a different excuse. It still hung in the air between them.

“That is actually hard to understand,” Saruhiko said after a drawn out silence between them that also seemed to irritate Yata who went back to looking at his game. “There must be an actual reason to why you’re here besides wanting to see me. I’m sure I give you some bad memories.”

Yata let out a deep, annoyed sigh. “I just wanted to see you, that’s all.”

Saruhiko frowned, “Why are you getting so worked up about this?”

“Quit asking stupid questions,” Yata snapped, pressing the buttons to his game to hard.

Saruhiko drank half of his grape juice and he set it down on the coffee table. He rose and walked around to sit on the couch Yata was currently sitting on. His former best friend gave him a scowl, almost about to move away, but Saruhiko caught the hesitation. He wanted to smile, but opted to the butterflies in his stomach, rising and rising, as realization was forming in his head at why Yata was here.

There was more to this that Yata wasn’t saying. He was too embarrassed, thoughts mingled around Yata’s head, and knowing him, he was fighting with himself for sometime before making the initiative when he realized he had stolen something while he was partially knocked out.

“It was a quick decision, wasn’t it?” Saruhiko asked, taking the game from Yata’s hand.

“You asshole,” Yata said, a growl rumbling in his throat as he clenched his teeth.

Saruhiko couldn’t help his smirk rising to his lips as he tossed the game to the adjacent couch, and before Yata could get up and retrieve it, he grabbed Yata’s wrist, and yanked him back down.

“I was playing with that,” Yata told him, trying to wrench free from Saruhiko’s hold.

“And I’m trying to have a decent conversation with you,” Saruhiko said, tightening his hold around Yata’s wrist, ignoring Yata’s wince of pain, “but you’re distracting yourself while in _my_ apartment.”

Yata glared, but he soon relented, turning his gaze away from Saruhiko as a way to rebel against him. He always tried the same old tactic, to be the bigger person, but he was always the one who fell right back into it. And maybe it was because Saruhiko goaded him, prodded at those parts of Yata that raised his temper.

He needed his attention, and Saruhiko pulled Yata closer, forcing him to look at him at how close they were sitting.

“It wasn’t you, was it?” Saruhiko asked, ignoring Yata’s discomfort. “You asked one of _them_ to bring it back to me.”

“Wasn’t that hard,” Yata said.

“But you were quick.”

Yata shrugged, looking to the half empty glass and reached for it while Saruhiko kept his grip around his wrist. “Couldn’t have you thinking things, could I?” he drank the rest of Saruhiko’s grape juice, licking his lips before placing it back down, giving Saruhiko a knowing smirk, “took you awhile to figure it out though, looks like you aren’t as smart as you think you are.”

Saruhiko glared, “Why did you want a key to my apartment? Could it be because you hoped to come here while I was gone?”

“Not my first time here,” Yata muttered, looking up at the ceiling.

“Surprised you didn’t mess anything up, or steal something,” Saruhiko said drily, “knowing you and your little gang, that’s all you seem to do.”

Yata snapped his eyes at him, “How about quit talking shit about HOMRA, monkey. They aren’t why I’m here.”

“It’s the only reason why I’m asking the questions,” Saruhiko said, and he could feel the tension inside of his own body ready to snap. Yata may make him feel something as close to yearning, but he also always managed to bring him to a point he wanted to shove Yata down, and make him bleed. “You’re here for a reason, and from the way you’re reacting to everything, it has nothing to do with my actual possessions—”

“What possessions,” Yata muttered again, glaring at the nice furniture around the apartment with disinterest.

“Or my clothes,” Saruhiko said tersely, reminding Yata about the way he had been hugging his coat before Saruhiko had sent him to the hospital, “so I’m wondering what you’re doing here when you managed to go out of your way to steal a key card from me, then later that same day, or even same hour, manage to return it without my notice. Apparently, you even managed to come here a few times, and what...lie on my couch and play your damn game?”

Yata wrinkled his nose at Saruhiko’s obviously losing his composure.

There was one thing that Saruhiko could think of, and he figured it’s the reason why Yata was in his apartment, why he stayed, and why he wasn’t looking at him. He usually tried to deny everything, to hit Saruhiko, to hate on him with every swear word he could muster while Saruhiko reveled in his loss of control.

Except things had changed, and Saruhiko wasn’t blind to it, and maybe he wanted Yata to simply say it. Like that would happen any time soon.

With a deep inevitable sigh, he covered Yata’s eyes with his free hand.

“What the…? What are do—”

“Shut up,” Saruhiko said in a low tone, “this is what you wanted, right?”

“F-From you?” Yata asked, almost leaning back if it wasn’t for Saruhiko’s grip on his wrist that kept him close, their legs touching.

Saruhiko observed the flush on Yata’s pale skin, a pinkish color while his lips trembled, and his body was tense now that Saruhiko finally got to the point. Yata may have been bold at the beginning, but when he was confronted by something like this, he usually fell apart.

“Yes, from me, who else?” Saruhiko asked, shaking his head at Yata’s lack of observation in the quiet apartment.

“I don’t want to get kissed by you,” Yata said, grasping Saruhiko’s wrist and pulling it away from his face, but whatever rage he hoped to show in his eyes seemed to have failed, he was obviously embarrassed by his tense posture and shaky lip.

“You said—”

“You’re putting words in my mouth!”

Saruhiko rolled his eyes, of course now that Yata was confronted with it, he was too much of an idiot to go through with it. He’ll regret it later and show up looking like a kicked puppy until Saruhiko either insults him some more, or gets a new lock for his door. He had to try a different tactic to get Yata to calm down. He peered at his flushed former best friend who was now avoiding his gaze, yet his hand was still holding onto Saruhiko’s wrist, while Saruhiko held onto his. It was a strange compromise, and he liked the closeness of them together without anyone else in the room, but he wanted Yata too look at him.

Clearing his throat, Saruhiko smirked and decided to use a more amusing tactic of his that Yata disliked, he leaned forward toward Yata’s ear, and said, “Mi-sa—”

Yata turned, his eyes widened, and before Saruhiko could continue, Yata grasped the front of Saruhiko’s shirt, and dragged him forward, pressing their mouths together. He hated the way he said it, but Saruhiko stared at Yata’s tense brows and squeezed eyes, while his mouth was soft and trembling.

“Don’t say my name like that,” Yata whispered, breathing hard against Saruhiko’s mouth.

It was either rage or something else, but this, Yata being compromised just by Saruhiko saying his first name, had him in pieces. An easy ensemble for Saruhiko to play with.

Yata still had his hand gripping the front of Saruhiko’s shirt, but his gaze had fallen away from him, and the pinkish flush still visible upon his cheeks. He was even gnawing on his bottom lip, and temptation that Saruhiko hoped to see more often.

“Are you okay?” Saruhiko asked, leaning close and breathing against Yata’s cheek, down to his ear, “you’re not talking anymore.” He went to his neck, nuzzling Yata and breathing him in while his free hand slid to Yata’s waist and pulling him close.

Yata grunted, turning back and giving Saruhiko a half hearted glare, “You’re seducing me, you asshole.”

Saruhiko hummed against Yata’s neck, “Of course I’m seducing you. You belong to me.” And he opened his mouth and bit Yata at the curve of his neck to his shoulder, gripping Yata to keep him firmly in place while his best friend tried to pull away.

“That hurts, you fucking monkey!”

“Lay down,” Saruhiko said.

“I’m not lying do—”

Saruhiko shoved him back, and Yata glared at him. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for Yata’s half baked anger as he crawled over him, but his legs were annoying as he looked down at Yata’s glare that matched his own.

“Spread your legs.”

Yata’s face warmed at the low tone Saruhiko used, and couldn’t find the words to retort Saruhiko’s demand.

He had raised his brow at Yata’s obvious issue, and Saruhiko grabbed Yata’s leg and pulled them open.

“Wait...I…”

Saruhiko moved between Yata’s legs and hovered over him, smirking at Yata, “What? Did you think we were going to do something on this couch?”

Yata gaped, his cheeks darkening, before he tried pushing him off. “You idiot! I hate you!”

Saruhiko had the slightest urge to get up and fill his glass with more grape juice. “Calm down, Misaki, I haven’t done anything yet.”

“Yet?” Yata glared, but it seemed to dampen after awhile, and even his fingers were no longer gripping Saruhiko’s shirt. “I just wanted to see you!”

Saruhiko arched a curious brow, “You can see me anytime you want, yet you break into my apartment, and hang out for an hour or two while I’m out, and then leave before I get back...Why did you stay this time?”

Yata sputtered over his words and then fell silent, staring up at Saruhiko as his flustered expression seemed to have faded, besides a slight pink hue on his cheeks that stayed. “I wanted to see you,” he answered, gnawing on his lip again and looking away.

He pushed and pulled, that’s what Yata did, and Saruhiko fell into that same rhythm of not minding that he would drown.

He leaned down and kissed Yata again, softer and careful, watching Yata’s eyes flutter shut, and his fingers found Saruhiko’s arms, along his shoulders, where he clung to him.

“Mi-sa-ki,” Saruhiko whispered, smiling as he turned his head and deepened the kiss. He wanted him to stay, to breathe him in, and have him underneath him, to have only Yata’s attention on him and no one else's. That’s all he wanted, but Yata wasn’t the type to understand Saruhiko’s feelings. Not when Saruhiko bit lightly at Yata’s lower lip, listened to him pant and groan, his fingers digging into Saruhiko’s arms, pulling him back into another kiss.

Another.

Another.

Another.

Until it was over, and Yata was standing by the door, and Saruhiko’s lips were on the edge of his full glass of grape juice, tasting that instead of what he truly craved to have.

“Was that enough?” Saruhiko asked, leaning against the wall.

Yata fixed his hat after he had put on his shoes, and Saruhiko noticed the reddish bruises along his neck, Yata not bothering to hide them, and he probably won’t even bother to acknowledge them either, until he got home.

Yata went still before glancing back at Saruhiko, his eyes were empty, a sort of glassy look. “No,” he answered, and then he walked out.

Saruhiko lifted his drink and took a sip, a question piling up upon the answered ones he had figured out. And this question had eluded him, and was the heaviest inside the silent apartment.

_What did you want from me?_


End file.
